Cordelia Misericordia
by Gabriel Gatsby
Summary: So the Wizards' Council had finally allowed hags a representative, but Cordelia is having a little trouble keeping her temper in check.


As the previous debate came to an end and there was a short lull in conversation while various council members scribbled down notes or shuffled their papers, Cordelia saw her opportunity. This was it - she was sure she had written an uninterruptable, unignorable, undeniably persuasive argument this time, and she _would _make the others see things her way.

Standing up she cleared her throat sharply, but it soon turned into a hacking cough that went on for some minutes. Many council members were too polite to show their disdain openly and so either continued on with what they were doing or waited patiently for her to finish, but others made no effort to deal her so much respect and rolled their eyes with undisguised contempt. Indeed, the decision to appoint Cordelia Misericordia as a representative on the Wizarding Council had been a much debated one, and although the majority had eventually won out, there were still a significant few that opposed her involvement.

With a final phlegmy hack, Cordelia's cough died and she was able to regain some composure. This was _not _how she had imagined this moment at all, but she was determined to make her point regardless.

"Honourable council members," she began, her crone's voice rasping out the words with what she deemed to be a successful degree of dramatic emphasis. She paused for effect before continuing, "I am here today for one reason and one reason alone, and that is to fight against the prejudices that burden my people. To help the wizarding world see us for what we truly are, and to value us for what we can contribute to your society. To cast away forever the stereotype and-"

"Like a terrible cough?" Her black eyes snapped around to the speaker almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, and she peered out at him from behind greasy strands of thinning hair, but the young wizard looked as relaxed and confident as ever under her disparaging glare.

"Excuse me?" she hissed.

"You spoke of stereotypes," he continued casually, "I was suggesting one: you wish to do away with hag stereotypes, such as that of a terrible cough?"

She heard the mocking tone of his voice and detected his attempt to derail her, and pursed her lips against the tickling in her throat. After hoarsely trying to disguise her coughing by keeping her lips shut tight for a few moments, she was finally able to bite out a terse reply,

"An unfortunate malady of old age!" was all she said, before quickly picking back up where she'd left off before he could say anything more. "For what we can contribute to society-"

This time it was a scornful bark of laughter that halted her, but as she turned to him again the man only sneered and said,

"Oh no, please - do carry on."

With her previous confidence uprooted and only sheer determination to guide her, she began for a third time.

"_For what we can contrib-"_

"I'm sorry!" the man said standing, "I just don't see why I should have to listen to such absolute, nonsensical_ drivel. _The woman," he said, pointing at her, "is obviously mad." Cordelia's wrinkled face contorted grotesquely in anger and humiliation.

"I am not _mad!" s_he spat out, but her voice cracked at the end and she broke down into another fit of hacking coughs. Another council member tried to diffuse the situation, but the young man brushed him off, and addressed her again tauntingly,

"You speak of prejudice and stereotypes, old crone, but a more ugly, hook-nosed, hunchbacked, dirty, _cannibalistic-"_

"I have not eaten anybody in _fourty-seven-" _she began.

"Oh ho!" he shouted disdainfully, and she instantly realised her mistake, "A feat to be sure, for a child-meat loving _hag!"_

Cordelia felt her concealment charms melting away as her fury rose, causing warts to break out across her face; her skin to sink and hang from her bones; her knuckles to swell at an alarming rate, until she stood before the council transformed.

She screeched in frustration, and grabbing her notes in one gnarled first stormed from the council chamber.

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_Written for: 'The Game of Life' Challenge. Prompt: Cordelia Misericordia._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

_CC cover image (entitled 'Wicked Witch of Hoxton') courtesy of JimmyMac210 on Flickr._

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**A/N:** Wasn't particularly happy with the way this turned out but I had to submit it in 24 hours or lose money in the game! It's not my opinion that counts though, leave a review to let me know what you think! ;) GG x


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